


A Debt Paid Off

by execution_empress



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Deathfic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/execution_empress/pseuds/execution_empress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple of master assassins learn important lessons when it's too late. [Warning: Deathfic, violence]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Debt Paid Off

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Written at the request of angst/deathfic. I'm so sorry. o(╥﹏╥)o I do hope everyone enjoys!

Her senses are heightened and she’s on the alert. She’s all alone in a strange forest, only armed with her gun, her knife, and her widow’s bracelets. Her visibility is reduced, but it doesn’t stop her. She continues to run. She knows she’s truly not alone. She didn’t come alone but somehow she got separated from the other Avengers. She’s calm, though her heart races. She needs to find someone to ease her nerves. 

Stopping for a quick breath, she hears the rustling of leaves. Her eyes dart, looking for the signs of disturbance. There’s stillness in front of her and in her peripheral vision. It can only mean whatever’s out there is behind her. Gripping the knife, the red-headed spy stays still to concentrate on the noise. Friend or foe? Foe or friend? Her heart races and she can hear the blood rush through her ears, but she doesn’t notice. She listens as there’s rustling again behind her, then the break of a branch. She doesn’t take any chances.

Swiping the knife at the figure, she hears a familiar man yell in pain and takes a step back. In front of her, a man presses a three-fingered-gloved hand against the cut and she’s instantly filled with regret and relief. 

“Clint?” 

“Ow! Fuck! Nat!” He takes his hand away and sees the shine of blood on his glove. The cut is on the side of his cheek, close to his eye. Natasha tears a piece of cloth in half and applies it to the wound. He winces, holding back a hiss, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. “...I deserve that. I shouldn’t have scared you.”

“Damn right!” she snaps at him. “I’m glad I found you though. Did you find-”

“No. No one.” He shakes his head as much as he can, but leans into her comforting touch. As he looks up at her with warm, blue eyes, she feels a twinge of guilt. She pats down the wound and tries to reduce as much bleeding as she can. “Do you think they’re-”

“They’re superhumans and Gods and protected with metal. They’ll be fine. Let’s worry about ourselves.” The cloth is practically red, but she pulls it back and it looks like most of the bleeding has stopped. “Are you okay to-”

“I’ll be fine. I’m with you.” Clint gives her a smile and Natasha smiles back. She doesn’t know why when she’s still worried, but it’s that same smile that reassures her in the darkest of times. Taking his hand, the two run through the forest, dodging tree and bush and shrub. They run as fast and as far as their legs will go. They try to find some sign of a friend, but there’s none to be found.

After a while, the two stop. They have to rest. Clint tries to catch his breath, resting his hands on his knees, while Natasha leans against a tree. The rustle of leaves and crunch of branches is never-ending it seems. It all sounds so far away, but Natasha feels uneasy. She doesn’t say it, but Clint can pick up on it right away.

“Nat? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why would you-”

“Tasha.” It’s that one word that crumbles her walls. She frowns and shakes her head.

“Something’s not right. Something’s not right about this whole thing.”

“It’s Loki,” he replies, standing and moving towards her. “Of course he’s going to try to fuck up things and mess with us. Wouldn’t expect anything less from him.”

“I know, but still-”

“And I told you, it’s okay. I’m with you.” She hates the way he says those words and the way he smiles. She hates how it calms most of her nerves. She hates, most of all, when he says it she can believe it. It’s dangerous, but it’s the type of danger she likes.

The rustling gets louder and the two know they can’t stay there much longer. Grabbing his hand, she urges him to follow. “Come on, let’s go. We’ll find someone soon.” Her eyes and small smile give him the courage to be brave. He nods and follows her, because he believes her. 

The two run off again. Clint soon takes the lead as he squeezes her hand. She returns it and follows on. 

Just when it seems like the sound is dying off and they’re safe, Clint lets go of her hand and trips. He turns back to check on her, but she’s standing before him with an arrow through her chest. He didn’t trip. She pushed him down and took the arrow for him. He tries to speak but his mouth is dry. He can’t even shoot at whoever shot her. It feels like a frozen nightmare right in front of him. She’s smiling down at him, shielding him as another arrow is shot through her neck. That’s when he screams.

Natasha calmly pulls out one arrow, then the other. As she reaches for her gun, Clint quickly pulls out an arrow and nocks it, taking aim right behind her. He shoots again and again, but there’s only silence. Whatever was hunting them is dead or satisfied. It doesn’t matter. She tries to lift her gun but her strength has left her. She falls to her knees and Clint catches her in his arms.

Taking the clean cloth she has, he tries to stop the bleeding but it doesn’t end. It flows and soon there’s red all over his hands. She coughs and coughs but the sound in her throat is thick and sickening. Looking at her, there’s desperation in his voice as he asks, “What the hell? Why the hell did you do that, Tasha?”

As she smiles there’s a trickle of red on the edge of her lips. “I owed you a debt,” she replies. “I owed you a debt and now it’s been paid.” There’s disbelief in his face as he shakes his head. It all sounds like some terrible dream.

“No! No no no no no no no!”

“Isn’t that why you kept me around?” she asks, confusion masking her pain. “I owed you a debt. I owed you so much, so we partnered up. I could pay you back that way. Isn’t that why you-”

“No!” He doesn’t realize it but he’s shouting, fear slowly gripping his heart. She’s paler than before and there’s just so much blood. “Damnit, Nat, that wasn’t it at all! Why the hell would you think that? I don’t give a shit about some debt. We’re partners because I wanted you around.”

“You wanted me around?” The words slowly come from her lips and her voice is full of fluid. It’s obvious that even breathing is painful for her, but she tries to hold on as long as she can.

“Of course I did! Couldn’t you tell?” It’s hard to accept that she’s so close to death but as soon as he does, tears flow from his eyes. His best friend and partner is barely hanging on and there’s nothing he can do. He’s never felt this powerless before. Her hand reaches up to wipe away his tears, but as soon as she touches his cheek, he takes her hand and holds it. 

She uses the last of her strength to smile as he leans into her touch. “I’m sorry, Clint. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t leave me alone! Please don’t go! Please, please, please, Tasha!” He squeezes her hand and shuts his eyes, trying to stop the never-ending sobs. Even with his eyes closed, her pale, bloody smile is all he can see.

“Clint.” He forces himself to open his eyes and he’s glad he does. The light is lost in her eyes and within seconds, her body goes limp. All that’s left is a ghost of a smile on her lips and his name ringing in his ears. 

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers as a new wave of sadness washes over him. He can’t stop the flood of tears or the way his bottom lip quivers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have told you. You’re important. You’re so important to me, Tasha. You always were. I can’t-”

There’s a sick gurgling from his throat and he doesn’t say another word. His breath stops. His eyes become blank. He slumps down and there, jabbed in his skull, is Loki’s scepter. Just as he once threatened, he made good of his promise. The god of mischief puts a foot on Clint’s back and pulls the scepter out. He taps it against his foot, trying to rid it of blood and brain and bone. There’s a wicked smirk on his face as he looks at the sight before him. A couple of master assassins, dead, their hands still joined. The best part of it all is there’s no determination and fight in their eyes, only death.

He lets out a crazed laughed as he walks away. “My, my, Who would have thought despair and regret would be absolutely delicious? I hope _brother_ is enjoying the show. That’s what he and his little friends get for stopping my plans.

“Now, I wonder who will break first in my next game - the super soldier or the man of iron.”


End file.
